


A Lesson Over Tea

by thelivingbird



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Dramedy, Gen, a lot of general bitchery, a touch of blood, marisa is head of the plastics, study time with gossip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelivingbird/pseuds/thelivingbird
Summary: Mrs. Coulter invites a couple friends over for tea while Lyra observes the socialites in their natural habitat.
Relationships: Lyra Belacqua & Marisa Coulter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	A Lesson Over Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ao3 user Adela Cathcart for all the help developing this idea and giving it shape.

Lyra would watch Mrs. Coulter obediently as she painted her face for the day. She would sit on the side of the large vanity balancing both figure and reflection in her sight. Her age was just so that she struggled with confusion as to why this beautiful woman felt the need to spend such a large part of her morning routine readying herself as well as awe for the way Mrs. Coulter transformed.

With the last spray of perfume, the same bottle every day from an extensive collection, Mrs. Coulter would turn to Lyra and ask, “Am I tolerable?”

And Lyra would always reply, “You look wonderful.”

“Oh, I hardly feel wonderful,” she would laugh and sigh.

Such was their routine in their short period of time together. Mrs. Coulter may brush Lyra’s hair after, or even put some cream on her face, depending on how rushed she felt that morning.

Getting ready was something they did together, but Mrs. Coulter always stayed up late and Lyra was only witness to her personal undoing if she managed to stay awake long enough. Through a small window of view, Lyra watched as her employer let herself go. This secret show, was far more fascinating to her. Mrs. Coulter would touch her bare face as if she forgot the person who was just there this morning. Her fingers would trace the line of her jaw checking for what, Lyra didn’t know. She would remain in front of her vanity for some time before rising and preparing for bed.

Lyra would creep back to her room and look at her own reflection in the dark. The face of a young girl, who looked younger still with her short stature, had nothing in common with the elegant woman across the hall. At least, that’s how Lyra saw it at the time.

There were very few instances when Mrs. Coulter would allow Lyra to observe so openly. Usually, it was Lyra being watched for abilities or lack thereof. One such exception, was an afternoon in which Mrs. Coulter hosted two women on the patio for some tea. Of course, Lyra was not allowed to sit down with them, but she was expected to be present.

“I want you to complete two more chapters before the day is up,” Mrs. Coulter handed the old book to Lyra.

The pages were coming loose from the spine and unless held with the utmost delicacy, the whole book would come apart. Already Lyra had scattered the pages across the floor. In her attempts to frantically put the book back together before Mrs. Coulter returned, she completely re-ordered the sections. She would be reading about the tides when the next page would be in the middle of describing the climate in the south of the Afrik.

It was in one of these incongruous chapters that Lyra had randomly placed her bookmark. As she was guided to a seat on the edge of the patio where she was instructed to stay put quietly. Mrs. Coulter welcomed her guests.

Mrs. Kline was a slight woman with the boniest hands Lyra had ever seen. She didn’t look very old, but the way her bones pressed against the skin made Lyra grimace. She stayed standing until Mrs. Lauder, who laughed in a way that Lyra knew she was from New Denmark, made her way to the seat on the right hand of Mrs. Coulter.

Mrs. Lauder waved at Lyra from the table, “Oh hello dear! I didn’t see you there. Why don’t you sit down with us?”

“She has her work to do. She won’t be joining us.” Marisa spoke quietly without lifting her eyes from her tea.

Mrs. Kline finally took her seat. “It’s so fabulous to get a chance to sit down with you ladies. How long has it been since any of us had time in our schedules?”

“Ages,” Mrs. Lauder giggled. Lyra couldn’t figure out why everything was so amusing to this woman. Mrs. Coulter and Mrs. Kline had yet to join in. “The girls are constantly requiring some sort of management. Just the other day my eldest ripped her school uniform to pieces and I had to spend the whole day sewing and stitching to get it fixed good as new.”

“Why not buy a new one?” Mrs. Coulter suggested. “Can’t you afford it?”

“Um, well, I like to spend wisely. You never know when disaster will strike, aha.”

“You never know how or on who your husband will prefer to spend the money,” with this both Mrs. Coulter and Mrs. Kline finally got in on the laughter. Mrs. Coulter held her smirk as she refilled the tea for her humiliated friend. Lyra didn’t fully understand the implication, but she knew a hit when she saw one. She had seen Mrs. Coulter push at someone before, but usually it was with flattery rather than this sting. Yet, Lyra couldn’t help but admire the charm that remained.

Mrs. Lauder sipped the tea, “It’s so much easier when you’re on your own. No one to rely on you.”

The hit didn’t land. Mrs. Coulter smiled, “Yes, it is. I’m so busy with my work I can’t imagine coming home and dealing with even more. I’m so lucky to be able to dedicate my time to something so meaningful. I can’t imagine living without a sense of purpose.”

“We’ve been hearing whispers about your work. But, it’s _really_ Father MacPhail’s project, no? That’s what I’ve heard.”

“No. He just checks in on things from time to time. Not even enough to sign his name to anything really.”

“Well, you need the supervision.” There was Mrs. Lauder’s laugh again.

Lyra accidentally let out a groan and immediately felt her employer’s eyes on her. She didn’t dare to look up. The page she busied herself with talked of rivers in faraway places. Maybe one day she could travel down one with the current.

“Lyra, will you run to the kitchen to get the food?”

Lyra put down the book. A few of the pages almost slipped out, but Lyra closed it quick. Still, there was the rogue text jutting out from the boundaries of the binding. “Yes, Mrs. Coulter.” She walked as quickly as she could. All three women followed her until she was out of view. Maybe when she came back, she would ask to go to her room. As she watched the cook arrange the finger foods in the pattern of a flower, she knew Mrs. Coulter wouldn’t let her go.

On the way back, Lyra could see through the open doors that Mrs. Coulter had regained the upper hand. She was leaning forward, with one hand lazily on her cup and the other gesturing vaguely to imply her utter indifference to anything she or her guests said.

“…I read your husband had an unusually good year all things considered, but I guess if anyone could make a recession work for them it’s Jonas Kline.”

Mrs. Kline smiled, “He’s very good at what he does. We’ll be sending our George off to boarding school this fall. His tutors were always very impressed.”

“You’re so lucky to have gotten a son on your first try. I have one kid get old enough to be left alone and then my husband puts another one in me.” Mrs. Lauder went into another fit of laughter that was cut short by the narrowing of the eyes from Mrs. Coulter. Even Lyra looked away for a moment when she saw the expression change.

This time, Mrs. Lauder’s expression didn’t look embarrassed. She straightened her back and let her hand fall to her stomach, “Oh, this little one is so testy, but you remember how it was when _you_ were pregnant, right Marisa?”

Lyra didn’t know Mrs. Coulter had a child. The Master surely didn’t mention anything. Mrs. Coulter was too young to have a grown child. Unless she was one of those young mothers Lyra had heard Mrs. Lonsdale warn about, but that didn’t seem right. Perhaps something happened. It had been a moment before any of the women said anything. Lyra couldn’t help but watch them openly.

She watched as Mrs. Coulter ran the backs of her fingers on the line of her jaw before reaching for her water glass and pull it quickly toward her. She let it slide across the wood of the table and slip out of her hand to the floor with a crash. The strangest part was seeing Mrs. Coulter quickly bend down and press her hand to the broken pieces. Her face was expressionless, but after a moment she contorted her features.

“Ah,” she sat up clutching her wrist, “Clumsy me.”

The women sprang into action. Mrs. Kline was on her knees picking up the bloody pieces on the floor. Mrs. Lauder immediately began screaming for bandages while clutching Mrs. Coulter’s hurt hand ferociously. Mrs. Coulter had twisted her lips into a grimace, but her eyes were calm.

Bandages were delivered, but the women shooed help away. Mrs. Kline had risen from the floor and began to pick out the tiniest little bits of glass in Mrs. Coulter’s hand. Lyra could see from her position on the outside that there was hardly any problem at all. Still, Mrs. Coulter was being attended to as if she may pass away any moment if deprived from a moment of attention.

Their daemons were fixed on the golden monkey, who had pressed himself to the side of Mrs. Coulter’s leg. They didn’t step closer. Instead, they were nudging each other trying to force the other forward.

“Oh, you’re so brave. When my girls hurt themselves, they scream and scream and scream.”

“You’ll be fixed up good as new in no time.”

Lyra thought it was overkill as Mrs. Kline wrapped the bandage almost all the way up to the elbow.

“Mrs. Coulter, do you need my help?”

“No, darling, everything is under control.” The other women didn’t even acknowledge Lyra’s voice. Mrs. Coulter tilted her head watching Lyra. “Why don’t you go back to your room, put those pages back in order.”

Lyra was so embarrassed by that last accusation she didn’t even have time to take in the scene of these women on either side of Mrs. Coulter fighting for her appreciation. Not even a minute earlier and Lyra would have described the whole meeting as a few people who had little or nothing in common exchanging strange pleasantries for the sake of what, Lyra had yet to learn.

Maybe the tea was very rare, and people were eager to try it.

The way Mrs. Coulter demanded their attention did stay with Lyra. Perhaps it didn’t matter if she hurt herself physically after that painful reminder Mrs. Lauder flung at her. Maybe that is why it took her so long to react to the glass. Lyra decided something unthinkable must have happened to Mrs. Coulter. Perhaps Mrs. Coulter lost her husband and child in the same accident the Master mentioned. Lyra was overcome with pity and admiration for her employer. What it must take to go on after a thing like that, Lyra hoped she never found out. It made sense to her in that moment why the women would faun over her if she hurt herself. She had been through enough.

But Lyra was so sure she saw Mrs. Coulter purposefully press her hand onto the glass. It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t ask Mrs. Coulter about it. Even if she did she would reassure Lyra that she was just seeing things. Maybe she was. Yes, she had to be mistaken.

“Between the two of us, we should be able to figure this out.” Lyra started to place the pages on the ground.

“The page numbers should help,” Pan shifted to mimic the golden monkey and got to work.

The sun had set by the time Lyra and Pan finished. She stepped out into the hall cautiously and walked as quietly as she could. The patio was completely cleaned up. The women were gone and Lyra breathed a sigh of relief.

“Lyra?” Mrs. Coulter was sitting by the fireplace. There was a pitcher of chocolatl on the side table with a second cup set out. “Come here.”

Lyra sat down and immediately began pouring her own cup. She took a long sip and smiled, “Imported?”

Mrs. Coulter laughed, “Yes.” She rubbed her hand, “They really overdid it, don’t you think?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just began unwrapping the wound. Mrs. Coulter displayed her palm to Lyra. “See? It’s shallow. Oh, yes, it stung quite a bit, but it will heal rather quickly.”

“That’s good.”

“What did you learn today?”

“Well, I read about the rivers in-“

“Lyra, I knew about that ruined book. I had you out there for a reason. So, what did you learn?”

“Um,” Lyra looked at Pan who only shook his head, “I learned that Mrs. Lauder laughs too loud.”

Mrs. Coulter did not look amused. “Mrs. Lauder is married to a very powerful politician who gets the names of his own children mixed up. So, who do you think sets him straight when he has to lend his support to an important new policy?”

“Mrs. Lauder?”

“There are direct ways of getting what you want and indirect ways.”

“What did you want?”

Mrs. Coulter considered Lyra for a moment. “I wanted Mrs. Kline’s husband to donate quite a sum of money to fund my research.”

“I don’t understand.”

“George Kline got accepted into that boarding school because Mr. Lauder wrote a recommendation. The boy has the brain of an earthworm and everyone knows it. The tutors have given up on him and no one of any worth will employ him. Well, Mrs. Lauder actually wrote the letter, and contacted the school, and- ehm, Mr. Lauder just signed his name to it all. Ilsa Kilne owes Nanette Lauder quite a favor, but Ilsa despises her. I will step in on her behalf and help Nanette pay for her eldest girls’ schooling, and that favor will transfer to me.”

“But if you can afford the schooling why can’t you fund your own research? And what did that have to do with anything that was talked about?”

“Because my research is more expensive than some girls’ school tuition. People will accept your charity if you allow them a bit of gossip. They were very rude to me, couldn’t you tell?”

Lyra didn’t want to mention that Mrs. Coulter was very rude back. Instead she sat up, “I didn’t like them from the start!” Still she wasn’t quite following. “But what was the gossip?”

Something flashed across Mrs. Coulter’s face before she took a sip from her chocolatl. She pressed the fresh scar on her hand. Small droplets of blood bloomed from the skin. “One day you learn how much you can take. You’re wondering about what Mrs. Lauder said, aren’t you?”

Lyra looked down to the floor. Yes, she was horribly curious.

“It’s alright. There’s not much too it, really. I _was_ pregnant, many years ago. It was a very difficult pregnancy. Have you been told about these things? No? Well, when it was time, the baby came out wrong, and well, that was it. She was gone. I’m sorry it’s not a more interesting story, but I figured I needed to put your imagination to rest.”

_She._ For a brief moment Lyra felt a bit of jealousy regarding Mrs. Coulter’s daughter. If she survived, would Lyra ever have been invited to live here to adventure north? “I’m sorry, Mrs. Coulter.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, but you can imagine why I don’t enjoy people bringing up the memory. Besides, while it’s important to know what affects you, it is far more important to see how you can affect others. Mrs. Lauder has a soft heart at the end of the day, and she’ll ruin herself with guilt over the little comment. Didn’t you see? Not a tear in my eye and the poor woman was gushing just from the sight of a little cut.”

“Now you’ll have a favor from both of them?”

Mrs. Coulter grinned and refilled Lyra’s cup. “You’re catching on.”


End file.
